--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Grant, Carter E. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 32 number: 9 published: 1929-07 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Carter E. Grant, “In the Death Grip of a Grizzly,” *Improvement Era* 32, no. 9 (July 1929): 762–768." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3209unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera3209unse start_page: 762 end_page: 768 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1929-07) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3209unse publication_year: 1929 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1929, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # In the Death Grip of a Grizzly In the Death Grip of a Grizzly By Carter E. Grant, Principal of the Jordan Seminary [This is the first of a series of frontier stories. As the author is a student of Western history . having majored in that subject at college, and during the past two years has written the Church His:ory Leaflets for the Sunday Schools, he should possess a historical background from which he can draw in dramatic style true pioneer stories both edifying and interesting. — The Editors. | "To some such land the famished hunter seeks in fever-dreams of coolness." — Neihardt. Our story opens in the wilds of Wyoming, south-east of what is now the famous Yellowstone Park, in 1823, when the wonders of that re- gion were unknown even to the most daring trappers. One will readily see that this was the very same year in which Joseph Smith the Prophet, then but seventeen years old, first saw the golden records in the Hill Cumorah, in the far-off State of New York. It is a noteworthy coincidence that, while Joseph, under divine direction, was preparing to establish the Church in the East, out on the extreme western frontier of our country Jedediah Strong Smith, as daring and intrepid a young trapper as ever "broke trail," should be seeking, at the head of the Big Horn, a gateway into the Rocky Mountains, even an overland route to the "Inland Sea," a sea like the Na- tional Park, as yet to be discovered. As one looks back, it hardly seems credible that St. Louis, a hundred years ago, was standing on the extreme western border of the United States. In the closing days of September. 1823, sixteen hardy men, with twice that many horses and pack animals, sallied forth in true mountaineer fash- ion from Fort Henry on the Yellow- stone river. Thomas Fitzpatrick and the young, fearless, twenty-three year old Jed Smith were in command. By permission, they had broken loose from the Henry-Ashley trappers and were beginning a long hunting and exploring trip on their own account. Southward day after day up the Big Horn they pushed, and now they were on the Powder river. Of beaver being plentiful they write: "Traps set in the evening generally yielded satisfactory returns in the morning; and the better part of each afternoon was spent in skinning the catch and preparing the pelts." Here, indeed, was the life young Jed had dreamed of! It Was not without its perils, for within the past year Smith had barely escaped death when many of his companions had fallen by the hands of the Ree Indians, then following the massacre, he and a lone friend, Baptiste, a French-Can- adian, had made their way some two hundred miles to Fort Henry for as- sistance. Now, however, as the trap- pers rode forth into the friendly Crow country, "they feared no evil," al- though it lurked unseen on every side. Already the western Indian summer began hanging hazily about, and autumn with all its golden glory ' flooded this vast domain. Youth and adventure and the daily hankering for the unknown always lying just beyond the ridges, urged them ever deeper into the wilderness. The venison steaks, the smell of spruce and pine, the roar of the water, the refreshing nights, and a hundred other delights gave a buoy- ancy to every step. Already Jedediah had accepted his nickname, "the Christian trapper." It was said that "he carried his Bible in one hand and his rifle in the other." Let that be as it may, he was the only one who could make a speech or offer a prayer over the remains of their young friend, John Gardner, killed by the Rees. We have old Hugh Glass's word for it, in a quaint letter dis- patched by him down the Missouri to the dead man's relatives, that "Mr. Smith, a young man of the company, made a powerful prayr [his way of July. 1929 IN THE DEATH GRIP OF A GRIZZLY 763 spelling] which moved us all greatly, and I am persuaded John died in peace." (South Dakota Historical Collections, Vol. 1.) Smith had been half reared for the ministry. Cardinal Goodwin in The Trans Mississippi West, says, "This Christian and soldier whose Bible and rifle were inseparable companions and who never permitted the mild teach- ings of the former to diminish in any way the vigor with which he used the latter, was a 'Pathfinder' whose ex- plorations have not been sufficiently recognized. To a greater extent than the majority of men, he loved the adventure which comes from exploring unknown territory. The call of the 'New West' was in his blood. He spent at least ten years of his life visit- ing its valleys, following its streams, climbing its mountains and penetrating the solitudes of its desert wastes — and was finally killed by the Comanche Indians." After being shot down by their arrows, he was scalped. In 1823 there was no "Oregon Trail." All traffic to the mountains left St. Louis by row boat or keel boat, pulled by a long cord either by horses or the trappers themselves. Smith had been six months going from St. Louis to the "Dakotas," sixteen hundred miles, and another six months coming southward around the great horseshoe- bend, back to a place almost west from the beginning. The Missouri at this time was the only western highway known, even to the trappers. At this point on the Powder river, we are told that, "For a week the party kept together; then Smith, with five men, struck out westward, while Fitzpatrick, with the balance of the trappers, kept on up the valley, hoping to fall in with the friendly Crow Nation on its fall buffalo hunt in the region between the head waters of the Powder and the north fork of the Platte. Smith was to explore the country westward, trapping on the upper reaches of the Tongue and Rose- bud as he went, and meet Fitzpatrick. returning by way of the Big Horn. whence the united bands should pro- ceed to winter quarters on the Yellow- stone." For several days Smith and his men worked slowly up a small tributary stream that came down from the divide between the Powder and the Tongue. Hunting was good. Then one evening Jed met with an accident that seemed likely suddenly to end his dreams of the mysteries beyond the mountains. On the bank of the young river, half deafened by the roar of turbulent waters, he had been setting a beaver trap, when all of a sudden a huge, hairy form towered above him, growling as it made the attack. Like a flash, Jed whipped out his long hunting knife and as he plunged it into the body of his antagonist, things happened quickly and the man remem- bered no more. "There followed a period of tortur- ing dreams," says Jed, "and when I awoke it was night, and I was lying be- side a fire with shadowy comrades lean- ing over me. There was a roaring ache in my head and at intervals a stabbing shot through my left hip." His thigh had been badly mangled and he was in a fair way to be "rubbed out" when his comrades, who were setting traps close by, rushed upon the scene and finished the bear, but not before it had struck Jed upon the head and hip. A moment later, and no rescuers could have saved Smith, for the bear was furious from the gaping wound made by the hunter's knife. At Jed's first signs of consciousness, the trappers huddled about, consoling him as best they could, for all had prophesied an early death, but they set about to make their leader as com- fortable as possible They knew, if he lived, weeks must elapse ere that leg could become of real use. Smith's five companions sat about the fire in council. All, even to the sick man, sensed the seriousness of the situation. He learned that with the approaching daylight, three of the men would strike across the country wilderness in pursuit of Fitzpatrick. 764 IMPROVEMENT ERA July. 1929 who was, no one knew just where; while the other two should remain to care for him and spend the shortening fall days in collecting beaver pelts. Jed does not inform us how many days passed nor does he name the stream. He adds, "There seemed to be noth- ing of immediate fear, I felt myself slowly gaining strength, with the gashes across my scalp and cheek grad- ually closing, but my leg, as yet, wouldn't bear moving without the most agonizing and torturing pains. ■'The men nevertheless were doing mighty well at the traps, clearing the stream above and below camp. The Rees and Blackfeet were far away to the northeast and the Gros Ventres, the most to be feared, were doubtless seeking winter buffalo meat on the plains of the Missouri. Fresh meat for our needs was plentiful, for deer and antelope abounded in the broken country around about." Still he does not fail to add that his wounds "throbbed on in a painful manner." Time passed and Jed's companions were using their horses on the longer excursions. The first fall storm came and went, leaving the dis- tant peaks white with sure signs of approaching winter. One evening after Smith's compan- ions had strolled up the creek afoot, leaving the three horses staked near camp, a dozen shots rang out in quick succession, followed by a chorus of wild cries. The Indians were upon them. Interpreting the full meaning of the horrible massacre, the sick man quickly seized his gun, ammunition, and hunting knife and, groaning with the excruciating pain, dragged his wounded body into the edge of an underbrush thicket, where breathlessly he awaited the outcome. A moment later a group of mounted Indians, in full war attire, came cantering into view, but seeing the camp and three grazing horses, they halted a moment, and then hurried forward chattering excitedly in a tongue altogether new to Smith. Surmising that another party was somewhere about, they be- gan peering around, -poking their guns into the brush so near the white man. that had they not worked in con- fusion Jed's pains would have soon ended. Helping themselves to the camp equipment, the blankets and tepee, loading all upon the three horses, they were off down the canyon. Jed's last hope for the safety of his com- panions was gone, for he had seen tied to the belt of an Indian two dripping scalps, the hair of which, he recognized only too well. As the hours passed, Smith lay in the cold as sick at heart as his wounds were painful. At last out through the darkness he crawled, hoping and praying that the pilferers had missed a blanket or skin upon which his chilled form might rest. "Oh, curse them," he muttered as he sank in despair upon the dead ashes of the camp fire. With his hands he made the fireplace into a sort of under- blanket, then pulling together a few dry twigs and bark, he made ready for a fire. Yes, he had flint and steel; but as he looked into the blackness, he decided it would be unsafe. As night wore on, the cold became un- bearable. Then, too, the sickening thought of his two slain companions haunted him. How soon would his body be as helpless as theirs he won- dered. Hope, however, lit his soul a bit as he thought of Fitzpatrick, but would he return in time? "How many days under these conditions will I be able to hang out?" he questioned him- self. "Why fear death at the hands of the savages when, possibly after many days and long weary nights, I shall meet it slowly and feebly, alone." Several hours dragged forward and from weariness he slept. Once mon. he was a boy again, back in Ohio. There was his mother, his brothers and sisters; now he was at the wharf, ready to leave home, he heard the riffling of the water; felt the warm, fond embrace of his mother, even saw the tears upon her cheeks, then he was awake on his cold bed in the Rockies, staring out into the blackness of the vast unknown. Growing desperately cold and numb July. 1929 IN THE DEATH GRIP OF A GRIZZLY 765 and half stupid from pain and be- wilderment, he reached again for his flint and steel; a spark! a glow, and a blaze, and soon a cheerful fire warmed him. Toward morning, the warmth having eased his suffering considerably, the old courage and resolution began to return. Hope filled his soul; he would still trust, yes, pray and have faith. The blood of a true Christian surged in his veins. His hand went to his bosom. "Thank God, I have it!" and he drew forth his little leather-bound Bible. As he opened it, several worn clippings fell to the ground. Carefully folding each, he started replacing them, when he saw the name Napoleon. "What would Napoleon have done under these conditions?" In the flickering firelight he read Napoleon's favorite saying, words expressing the con- queror's admiration for Christ. After comparing Christ with himself and with heroes of antiquity. Napoleon continued: "I think I understand somewhat of human nature, and I tell you all these were men, and I am a man, but not one is like him; Jesus Christ was more than a man. Alexander, Caesar, Charle- magne, and myself founded great em- pires; but upon what did the creations of our genius depend? Upon force! Jesus alone founded his empire upon love, and to this very day millions would die for him. Here lies the Book of Books upon the table (touch- ing it reverently) ; I do not tire of reading it. and do so daily with equal pleasure. The soul, charmed with the beauty of the Gospel, is no longer its own: God possesses it entirely: he directs its thoughts and faculties; it is his. What proof of the divin- ity of Jesus Christ — he incorporates into himself, not a nation, but the whole human race!" (Bertrand's Memoirs. Paris.) Replacing the clippings, Jed strove to read the fine Bible print by the dancing light, and his memory sup- plied what he could not follow with his eyes. How peculiar that he should open to such a passage, "He is chas- tened, also with pain upon his bed. Yea his soul draweth near the grave, and his life to the destroyers — his flesh shall be fresher than a child's: he shall return to the days of his youth. He shall pray unto God and He will be favorable unto him." Stirring up the fire a bit, he continued, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." The troubled man sank back upon his bed of ashes. "Why should I withhold my love toward my Sa- vior? Is it not a proof that I of myself deny him? 'I am heavy laden." I will return. He then thanked God he was alive, that even in this vast solitude he could pray. And pray he did and felt better. He even thanked God for his rifle, knife, flint and steel, and what he prized much more, the well worn copy of the scriptures. How long he lay thinking or when he fell into a deep sleep, he could not tell, but when he opened his heavy eyes, staring about on every side, a new day had crept forth and the slanting sun shed its hopefulness upon him. Placing his cold hands upon his fevered brow, he lay trying to collect his confused thoughts. His fire had long since died; but what seemed worse, the spark of hope within him seemed sinking. Determinedly he turned his stiffened joints a bit and soon had a fire going. After the warmth and a careful leg massage, he found he could pull himself about a bit. with some of his pain disappear- ing. He records that the old sustaining faith came back like a revelation. "I knew that God was in the world as much as ever and would provide. Not many rods away was the stream, and feeling feverish and terribly gaunt. I was soon slowly pulling myself to ward its sparkling waters. My hun- 766 IMPROVEMENT ERA July, 1929 ger, though, would not be fooled for- ever; for in the early afternoon I actually felt weakness coming on, and no longer could move with the ease of morning. My leg, too, having been jolted more than usual, kept me in no contented frame of mind. All of a sudden a new hope burst upon me. 'The traps, and possibly beaver!' I half spoke the words aloud. As I started slowly up the creek, over rocks and fallen stumps, I lay still at times, reckoning the cost, but knowing what it might prove without this effort, I carefully moved forward, keeping a sharp lookout for traps. The first was empty. The second also. Ap- palled at the pain my venture was giving me and nursing not the slightest forebodings for the oncoming night, I lay and rested, while the dampness of the sodden ground chilled me." At length, he says, prayer strength- ened him and he reached the third trap, which to his joy contained a beaver, "But it was an hour before I succeeded in bringing it to shore with a forked branch cut from the brush." The sun had winged its way west- ward into a mist that hung above the Wind River Range, before his beaver meal was over. Then feeling more strengthened and hopeful, he began preparations for another long night, which with a fire was with lessened torture than the night previous. However, the second day and the third he was compelled to fast, as his painful trips up the creek brought no returns. "Game," he writes, seemed suddenly to have deserted the region." At least it appeared so to the sick man. "On the third night, I lay by the fire and again turned to the Bible for aid, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. * * The Lord shall preserve thee from evil." Amen, he said reverently, and turning the leaves to Job began, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." "His archers compass me round about. * * My face is foul with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death. * * I shall go the way whence I shall not return * * the graves are ready for me." "No, no,!" exclaimed Jed, "I am not Job. My request is not to die, but to live!" and he turned the leaves again, reading, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pas- tures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. * * Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me. * * Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over." For a long time Smith lay gazing thoughtfully into the flickering campfire, then thinking of the Bible again he repeated, "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine; but a broken spirit drieth the bones." In the early morning of the fourth day of fasting and prayer he says, "I awakened suddenly and rubbed my eyes. Whether I saw or dreamed 1 was not at first sure. A fine large buck within easy rifle shot was stand- ing broadside, quietly drinking from the stream. My ever ready gun being at my side, I managed to turn myself without lifting my body to be seen; taking aim I found myself trembling with anxiety, and I feared to press the trigger. Just then the animal raised his head high in the air. I waited not a second, but calmed myself. At the roar of my gun, it gave a mighty leap and toppled over, floundering in the grass and mud at the water's edge. That morning I lay and praised God as I toasted my first meal for three full days. "At the close of this feast, feeling somewhat encouraged, I dragged my- self up the torturing slope of a nearby hillock, and lay searching the empty distances until my eyes and head ached and the shades of night began darken- ing the creek bottom. Nothing alive appeared but a flock of crows wheeling and circling above the woods where my two companions lay. With a last look for horsemen, I turned July, 19 29 IN THE DEATH GRIP OF A GRIZZLY 76; campward, praying as I crawled, for the thought of God ever helped my lonesomeness." After three days feasting from the flesh of the buck, Smith found the meat going putrid, and at last the anxious crows were allowed to swoop down upon it, stripping its bones clean. When the large, hooked-beaked, black things returned the next morn- ing, circling above camp, Jed won- dered as he watched if the vultures were actually growing impatient, hanging around for a chance at him. Two more days and nights passed without food, yet each day he pulled himself to the hilltop, scanning the broken country in all directions. On the third day as he watched, there came out of a ravine about a half mile distant a large herd of antelope. Hour after hour they quietly fed just out of range. Then they began working nearer, but disappeared in a hollow. The next day, because of weakness, he made no attempt at climbing out of the creek bottom, and somehow, too, he seemed to pray with less assurance. That night his usual fire failed to warm him. The damp mountain breeze brought on chill after chill. For the first time in many nights his mind wandered. With startling clearness he was back home once more. But Jed's iron will, even though encased in a broken body, had not been subdued. With the light of another day, he aroused himself with an effort. He must hang out. What was that! Sure enough, three deer were coming down the slope to the creek. Again he took aim, but the sights danced giddily: he seemed not to see plainly. "Bang." A splash of water told how faltering had been his aim. With a bound the frightened deer broke off through the brush. Weary and exhausted he again lay upon his bed of twigs and ashes. Was he being mocked? Why had he missed ? The sharp pains in his leg again made him build a fire. Heat seemed his only solace. Always it cheered him and brought feelings of hope. In spite of it all, ho turned to the Bible and read from Job, "Man that is born of woman is of few days, he cometh forth like a flower and is cut down." Brokenly, he questioned. "Does the 'Good Book' also mock me? Why should the pages always fly open to Job?" He opened to the New Testament, "For to be carnally minded is death: but to be spiritually minded is life and peace." Turning to James he continued reading: "But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering, for he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven by the wind and tossed." That day and another night came and went. The sick man had hardly moved from his bed of ashes. The next morning the glorious sun sent its rays across the dew-soaked moun- tain vastness. A flock of crows larger than usual wheeled and circled as if waiting impatiently beyond scheduled time. A mountain rat repeatedly sallied forth, quietly viewing things about camp. At that moment there came riding into the scene three scouts, Jed's mes- senger friends, followed, not by Fitz- patrick, but Colonel Keemle with his band of brave trappers. Not even the tramping of the horses aroused the un- fortunate Jed. The men stopped at the clearing, surveying the blanketless man and the deserted camp. At the crack of a twig beneath one of the horse's feet, the sick man roused him- self, and not until his former comrades were leaning over him, could he really sense that at last his prayers had been answered. By securing a blanket across two poles, the ends of which were fastened to the pack saddles of two of the more docile horses, a litter was made for Jed, whose wounds, despite his lack of food, had healed sufficiently to admit of travel. A few days later Fitzpatrick and his men joined the company. How Jed's soul warmed though as he listened to the following: "A Crow chief told me," began Fitzpat- rick, "how by following up the Sweet water which flows eastward into the 768 IMPROVEMENT ERA July, 19 29 north fork of the Platte, a great break in the Wind River mountains is found, through which we can enter into the very midst of the Rockies as easily as over an open prairie trail and follow down to the 'Siskadee Agi' or Sage Hen river [later called the Green riverj , and so plentiful are the beaver yonder, said the Crow chief, that traps are not needed, because one can knock them over with a club." (Article by Sahtare, St. Louis Weekly Reveille, March, 1847, published the very year the Pioneers came through this South Pass and over the Green riverj . Later we shall read more about Jed, his recovery and trail-breaking trips to the Salt Lake Valley, some twenty- two years in advance of the "Mor- mon Scouts" under President Young. Then, also, we shall read of the Comanche Indians and Jed's fatal ex- periences with them. Our Practical Religion By Ernest Smith, Student at the B. Y. U. Are we interested most in the pres- ent, future, or past? Are we interested in the mysteries and obscure things of life, or in the plain things applicable in the daily routine of the common man? Is our religion for the mass of people or for the learned few? Certainly, we are interested in the past, not for the past itself, but for the added light gained to help us in enjoying the present. The past fully analyzed is a most complete set of ex- periments on the most interesting and most vital problem — life — what it is, and how to use it. Are we interested in the future? Yes, in our individual future and in the future of the race. But we do not think of the future as being more im- portant than the present only in the quantitative side. We do not think that we should sacrifice the present for the future, but that future happi- ness and joy varies with present true happiness. We look upon this life as a stepping stone to greater progress; not as a necessary evil. We are interested in the mysteries and obscure things of life, because we believe that all things can be explained by natural laws, although those laws may not be known as yet to man. We believe that it is desirable to under- stand life. An axiom of the Church is "The Glory of God is Intelligence." True, it is good to be able to under- stand those deep things, but one should not bother oneself with such mat- ters and forget the plain, simple doc- trine that is directly applicable in the life of man. Religion is not alone for a learned few, but it is for all men — a means of leading them, in a more highly de- veloped state, back into the presence and glory of God. "Mormonism" is a practical religion. What economist has worked out as good a plan for economic equality of man as the plan "The Law of Con- secration" provides? And what would be as good a test to see if one would be able to live under such conditions without infringing upon the rights of others as an attempt to live accord- ing to the Gospel of Christ? Could a student of sociology, with- out the help of God, state in such simple and comprehensive terms what the ideals of man should be, as are stated in the thirteenth Article of Faith? Barring only the "Fruits of Mormonism," it offers the best proof that "Mormonism" is a practical re- ligion. "We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in do- ing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul, — We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to en- dure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things."